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<k 






r 



THE 



WITCH-WIFE: 



A TALE OF MALKIN TOWER. 



& iDtamat 

IN FIVE ACTS. 

(Am produced at the Theatre Royal, Marylebone, May 1849, itfufer the 
direction of Mr. Ellis, Stage-manager,) 






BY * . 

HENRY SPICER, Esq., 

author of ** h0nb8tt," " judos jbffbbys,'' " lords of 

■llinoham/' etc. 



' Chaktox and all her fellow-witches agree that the devill is cloven-footed ; but 
Fande had a very good face, and was a very proper woman."— Somees. 




LONDON : 

THOMAS BOSWORTH, 215 REGENT STREET. 

1849. 



LONDON : 
Printed by 6. Baeclat, Castle St. Leicester Sq. 



TO 



ANNA CORA MOWATT, 



A NAME FAMIUAB 



TO THE ENQLISH PUBLIC AS THAT OF AN 



ACCOMPLISHED AUTHORESS AND ACTRESS, 



BUT TO WHICH A MORE SELECT CIRCLE ANNEX 



THE BETTER TITLE OF 



DEAR AND HONOURED FRIEND, 



® j^ts $tece is Bebicateb 



WITH THE KINDEST WISHES OF 



THE WRITER. 



, / 



I 



PEEFACE. 



The " Witch -Wife," though including one or two cha- 
racters of some notoriety, is based upon no circumstances of 
actual occurrence ; neither was it suggested {as has been 
alleged) by my friend Mr. Ainsworth's " Lancashire Witches " 
— a work I had purposely denied myself the pleasure of 
perusing, lest the stirring scenes it could not fail to embody, 
should exercise an influence destructive, at least, of the ori- 
ginality, however beneficial to the dramatic interests, of the 
piece. 

To any who desire a further acquaintance with the 
notorious Matthew Hopkins, or insight into the grotesque 
horrors practised at the period of the witch-persecutions, 
the State Trials and Somers' Tracts will afford abundant 
information, and at the same time prove that nothing in the 
following pages is unjustifiably farcical. 



VI PREFACE. 

I have great pleasure in recording my obligation to Mr. 
Watts, for the liberality and gentlemanly courtesy he has 
displayed in relation to this piece ; as also to Mrs. Mowatt, 
Mr. Davenport, Mr. Johnstone, Mr. Ellis (the able stage- 
manager), and the whole corps of the pretty little Marylebone 
Theatre. 



24 Chreen Street, Orosvenor Square. 



PERSONS. 



Sib Gebau) Mole, a Country Knight 

Mabchmont Needham 
Antont Gabb, 

Habbt Mabttn, • Country Gentlemen 

Vaughan, 

Matthew Hopkins, die Witch'finder 

Stebm, his FoUower .... 

Gatbe, 



- Judges 



HoWIiETT, 

Constable 
Oppicbb 
gountbtman 
Gaoleb 



Cecil Howabd, Niece of Sir Gebald . 
MiSTBESS Fbill, her Governess 

Alison Devise 

Maggie 



Mr. J. H. Rat. 

Mr. Dayenpobt. 
Mr. Cbaven. 

Mr. Wheatleioh. 

,Mr. MoBBis. 

Mr. J. Johnstone. 

Mr. MoBBisoN. 

Mr. TiNDELL. 

Mr. H. Lee. 

Mr. MOBLAND. 

Mr. Maubice. 
Mr. Range. 
Mr. BowEN. 

Mrs. Mowatt. 
Mrs. E. TouNG. 
Mrs. J.Johnstone. 
Miss Feist. 



Country People^ Officers^ Sfc, 



A.D. 1634. 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. 



Library in Pendell Manor, Sir Gerald Mole at a table covered 
with books, Sfc, A large black board is suspended on the waU, 
with geometrical figures, ^c. A crowd of rustics at the lower 
end of the room, among whom is seen Alison Devise, as a 
prisoner in charge of Stern and another. Sir G. appears 
absorbed in study. 

Con. (aside to Stern). Come, this won*t do. Accost him, 
Master Stem ; 

Assault him with your wonted eloquence ; 

Make a speech. Master Stern. 
Ste. (slowly and gravely). Ahem ! 

Sir G. (abstracted). From A 

To B C D, draw three straight lines — 
Con. (aside). Old dunce ! 

He*s still at his alphabet. To him again, 

Loudly and scholarly. 
Ste. (loudly). Ahem I 

Sir G. (starting). Who's there ? 

Heav*n give me patience ! There's the thread o' the work 

For the fifth time snapt short. Will nothing, sirs, 

Deserve of ye some daily hours of peace ? 

Go, patch your quarrels in the buttery : 

I ne'er knew village feud that would not yield 

To the mild persuasion of a can of ale. 

If you feel drought, there's stuflFto drown a county ; 

If you want fuel, there's wood ; for hunger, bread ; 

In the orchard, boughs laden yet strong enough 

To help or hang ye all. 
Ste. Stop. 

Sir G. Well, man, speak. 

Con. (bustling forward). An't please your worship, I will. Mas- 
ter Stern 

Has been at school, and learned the worth of words ; 



2 THE WlTCH-WlPE. 

He*8 like a ship provisioned with parched peas 
Doled siiiffly hy the niggard steward. This 
Old dame s charged, on suspicion, with bewitching 
Dame Pepper^s (ud dun cow. 

Snt G. (studving), * Which is absurd ' . . . 

But ii, as was proposed, the angle B — 

Con. (hastily). Sir, if your worship — 

Sir G. Oh, ay I Well, old woman, 

Can you rebut this evidence ? Go, sirrah. 
Call Master Marchmont Needham. He's a scholar, 
Learned in the law. Ay, there's more sense, I tell you. 
Under his curling love-locks, than resides 
In twenty ermined frizzle- wigs. He 's here. 

[^Enter Mabchmont Needham. 
Marchmont, good day. 

Need. Good morrow, my good friend. 

News reached me that our village casuists 
Had broached a theory of more painful proof 
Than those which in this learned page you know 
So well to deal with, and I hastened on 
To offer aid. 

Sib G. Thanks I thanks I {^Returns eagerly to study. 

Need. The matter, friends ? 

Con. (aside to Stebn). Speak, speak, man I 

Ste. Witches — 

Need, (impatiently). Nonsense I 

Ste. Law — 

Need. (siU), We'll hear 

The case, then. Who complains ? 

[Countryman steps forward. 
What, Master Phinn ! 

You don't seem pinched or withered in the flesh. 
What have you suffered ? 

CouN. (scratching his head), Nawthing. 

Need, (frowning). Fellow, here's 

No Christmas mumming. What do you allege 
'Gainst this poor woman ? Out with it. 

CouN. (mth much hesitation). Well, master, 

She squints — God sain us I 

Need. Master Phinn, amen I 

And put some brains in that disfurnished hut. 
Thy noddle. Gret you gone. But, in Heav'n's name, 
Is not this monstrous ? . . . Some one hath a sheep 
Sick of the giddies, or a hog of the mumps, — 
A girl of the sullens, or a boy of the school. 
And the poor thing's " owl-blasted," as ye say 
(Bewitched, that is) ; while the first ancient dame 
That, with a palsied eye-lid, hobbles by. 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 3 

Hath don't of mischief. Of such sages I've 
Known but five sorts, and rate within these rules, — 
Sick-witted, children, women, cowards, fools. 
Well, sir, and what can you suggest ? What proof, 
Or witness ? 

Ste. Ducking ? 

Need. Out, you ruffian ! 

SiE G. (looking up). Stay. 

Marchmont, this must be looked to ; let's proceed 
With caution. I'm a justice of the peace. 
And sworn to thwart the devil — yea, give him bound 
Up to the civil power. Come, Miaster Stern, 
Your charge ? 

Need, (to Stern). Well, sir ? If she's a witch, you seem 
Possessed by a dumb devil. Where's your tongue ? 

Ste. (producing a letter). There ! 

Need, (examining it). 'Tis a scroll. Sir Gerald, to say truth, 
Nor over clean nor clerkly ; but withal 
Scratched in a bold, black, earnest hand enough. 
And superscribed to you. 

Sir G. Ha ! read it, Marchmont. 

NEEd. (reads.) " My service to your worship presented. I have 

this day received a letter to come to a place called PendeU 

Forest^ to search for evil'disposed persons called witches. I 

much marvel such evil members should have any to take their 

parts. . . ." 

Sir G. (uneasily). Who takes their parts ? Not I. 

Need. Shall I conclude ? " / intend to give your precinct a 

vis^it suddenly ; for I would certainly know whether it affords 
many sticklers for such cattle, or vnlUng to give us good 
welcome and entertainment: for so shaU we work without 
control, and likewise with thanks and recompense. So I 
humbly take my leave, and rest your worship's servant to 
command, Matthew Hopkins." 

[^As he reads the name, a movement of terror among 
the courdry people. 

Sir G. Ha ! Is he coming ? Then I warn ye all. 

Burn every broomstick, say your prayers straightforward. 
And get to bed betimes. He'll find you out. 
If there's a witch among ye. 

Need. And if not. 

He'll make one. No man builds his giants better. 

Sir G. (doubtingly). I don't know, Marchmont. He's a gifted 
man. 
He comes not purposeless. I think — I — eh — 
We must commit this prisoner P 

Need. You will hear 

The charge first ? 



4 THE WlTCH-WlPE. 

Sib G. Ay, that*8 fair. 

Nbbd. (aside to a villager). Hark, little Maggie ! 

Uo seek out Mistress Cecil. Say she's needed 

To work a marvel .... [^£!xit Magoib. 

Teach a good, weak man. 

The strength of reason . . . Master Stern, your speech. 

Condensed and pithy though it he, scarce guides 

Judgments not preinformed. A trifle more 

Detail, sir. 
Stb. (jxhtUs to a coffer held by Constable). There I 

Enter Cecil, running, 
Cec. O, what a race ! Dear uncle, 

Lend me your watch. Quick I I gave Mistress Frill 

Once round the pleasance, where we walked, to yow. 

And beat her by — a minute. Here she comes I 

Dear lady I Tired, ma'am ? 

\_0ffer8 chair to Mistress Frill, who enters panting 
and disordered, 
Mis.F. Ah — oh — fie — girl I . . . 

SirG. Cecil! 

Cbc. Don't knit your brows. You know I hate it. Come I 

IVe told you that before. 
Mis. F. (lifting her hands). Miss Cecil — child ! 

You make my blood run cold. 
Cec. (aside). It never did 

Aught else. 
Mis.F. Is this my teaching ? Lackaday ! 

Go stand in the comer till you ve learned to give 

Your elders reverence. 
Sir G. Come, come. Mistress Frill ! 

She's not a child, good lady. We old souls. 

Evermore bragging of our own wise years. 

Must let our juniors grow. Come on, wild thing I 

Sit down by me. We'll make a pretty twain — 

Justice and Mercy. How shall we dispose 

These evil-doers ? 
Cbc. Give them a crown a-piece. 

And send them home. 
SirG. Nay— but— 

Cec. Another word. 

And Mercy quits the bench. You'll be my clerk. 

Good Master Needham. (To Sib G.) Foi«, sir, will be 
dumb; 

For Justice acts, not chatters. 
Ste. Hold I 

Cec. Heyday ! 

Pray who are you P 
Stb. Stern. 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 5 

Cec. You will find me sterner, 

If you don't hold your tongue. What a hlack beard ! 
Ha ! ha ! look, uncle . . . Sir, you couldn't sit 
To a painter for a cherub. 

Con. (sulkily). Madam, my lady I 

(Since 't is his worship's pleasure you should hear) — 
We've brought a witch for judgment. * 

Cec. Witch ! What ? Where ? 

rd give the world to see one. Is it large ? 
Old ? bearded ? bent ? with imp and broomstick, all 
Complete ? 

Con. (to Alis.) Stand forth there, prisoner. You, young lady. 
Beware her evil eye. 

Cec. (starting up). Til risk the — That! 

Why, that's my nurse, man, Alison Devise ! 
Good, patient, loving, dear old Alison ! 
Man, ere her years had half attained to thine, 
More deeds of love and Christian charity 
Stood to her count, than there are white hairs How 
On her poor forehead. She's the wayside flower — 
Unseen, uncared-for, loading the rich air 
With careless fragrance ; one pure source through which 
The under, ever- flowing stream of good. 
Still rolls to bless the world. She, she a witch ! — 
Dear uncle, do you hear them ? 

SibG. Eh! why,— eh! 

'T is she, that's certain — isn't it ? For they say 

Witches sometimes change feature, to Well, well, 

Why didn't you speak, old woman ? 

Alis. (curtsying). There was nought 

To answer, please you. These good gentlemen 
Were so resolved, I feared, sir, I might be 
A witch, and didn't know it. 

Con. That won't do. 

Produce the image. Master Stern . . . We kept 
One horrid witness back, hoping to spare 
Your worship's tender heart, and this poor lady. 
Whom — shame to yonder evil-hearted hag I — 
It doth afiect more nearly. 'T is a form 
In wax, shaped like the lady Cecil, doomed 
To devilish tortures, which, by wizard arts, 
Reach to the living copy . . . First we lit 

[^Opens the coffer. 
On these. Item, one broom, one kitten (lame), 
Sundry glass beads, six ringlets of fine hair. 
And fifteen pins, some crooked. Next we came 
To this most terrible object. ^Produces an image. 

Cec. Hal ha! ha! 



6 THE WITCH-WIPE. 

Dear Master Constable, I thank your zeal, 

That, from this good old creature^s drawer of treasures, 

Has rummaged — my first doll I 
Axis. And *t is as like 

Your little cherub face, at three years old, 

As sister-peas. Grod bless ye both I . . . That's why 

I kept it. 
Need, (rising). Master Stem and constables, 

*Gain8t this poor soul three things are proven. First, 

She squints ; second, loved babes ; third, hath a kitten 

Goes on three legs. She is discharged. 
Snt G. But stay ; 

To make all sure, we will impound the doll. 

And pop the cat i* the cistern. So, be off; 

And, all whose conscience tingles, mend your doings ; 

For hither comes Mat Hopkins, Satan*s foe ; 

One who has brought more witches to the pyre 

Than I have tongue to number. Some of ye 

See the poor woman to her home in safety ; 

And lAU shrink from her. 

How's this? All afraid? 
Cbc. rU guard her, uncle. 

Come Alise, lean on me. Do as I bid you. 

Lean all your weight. Ay, so. 
Need, (aside). Heaven bless thee, child ! 

Lovely thou art, but glorious charity, 

With skill surpassing nature, paints thee now 

With tints of heavenly origin : Til not 

Spoil thy good deed by sharing ; yet I may 

Humbly precede, and smooth the hallowed way. [_JExeunt, 
Con. (as they go out). Well, what says Master Stern, the magpie? 
Stb. Wait, {_Mxeufd, 

SCENE n. 

A glade in Pendell Forest Evening. 
Enter AlNTont Gabb, Mabttn, and Vaughan. 

Gabb. I tell you, we're too many. What the deuce 
Brought you both poking hither ? 

Mab. (laiighing). This ! (waving a paper). No pheasant 
Was ever snared with verse. If you're in love. 
Don't be ashamed on't I Tell us, like a man ; 
'T is but a young disorder, like the chin-cough. 

Best early caught, and done with ; but delayed 

As I live, here s another ! 

[Runs to a tree and snatches off a paper , which Gabb 
tries in vain to obtain. 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 7 

Vaug. And besides, 

Some dogs hunt best in couples. Here is Martyn ! 
Now, were not / — a sober gentleman. 
Of staid and shrivelled reputation, by, 
To check his frolic-passion — 
Mab. What you promise. 

Might have brought half the county. Hem ! Let*s see. 

[^Reads. 
Glances that, if they did not please, 

Wotdd sure ivith terr'jr fray us — 
Fair suns— or blue-cold spheres that freeze ; 
Comets gashed fresh from chaos* 
Vau. Right— your stale comet's not worth a bulrush. On — 
Mab. (reads). 

Lips like a rosebud, newly cleft — 

Ripe as an autumn plum — 
Whereon some lovesick bee has left 
Its honey and its hum, 
Vau. Its hum ? What, does she buzz ? 
Gabb. No — to say truth, 

I lacked a rhyme. 
Mab. But"AMwi?" Critics might say 

She had a bee in her bonnet. Sir, that hum^s 
A humbug — cut it out. So, then, 'tis here 
The spirit wanders ? 
Gabb. Sometimes two. 

Mab. Eh! Two? 

In ghosts and women, all the interest 
Ends, with the individuality. 
rmoflF. 
Gabb. I see a shadow. Steal apart I 
Disperse — disperse I 

[They retire aside, as Mabch. Nebdham enters. 
Need. All's clear enough. Poor souls I 

The ver^ name of Matthew Hopkins scares them 
Like conies to their burrows. I'll watch here 
Till she has passed — then follow. 

[Retires, Gabb advances, and stealing round, grasps him, 
Gabb. Stalking deer ? 

What sport, sir ? 
Need. Master Gubb ! . . . What do you here. 

Alone ? Indulgence in great thoughts, not doomed 
To find their issue in heroic deeds. 
Is robbery of the world, sir. You're a thief — 
I apprehend you. Come with me. 
Gabb. First tell me 

What is your object here ? 
Need. I, sir, attend 



8 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Sweet nature*8 vespers. Here*8 a scene to fix 

The soul I {Aside) This ass will fright her. 

Blending shades 

Clothe the sweet earth, while one bright ray, just threading 

Yon stately vista, to the dim old tower, 

From out the very depth and womb of darkness 

Conjures forth light. 
Gabb. Like sparks on tinder. 

Need. Yes . . . 

Mixed with the murmurs of the latticed leaves, 

Sounds steal, like spirit- voices— 
Gabb. Dainty frogs 

Squabbling at supper. 
Need. I could dream — 

Gabb. No doubt. 

But /, most learned and poetic Marchmont, 

Am very much awake. Never tell me — 

You care as much for vistas, towers, and trees. 

As donkeys do for diamonds. What's the matter ? 

Who's that parting the boughs ? 
Need. By Heaven, 'tis he ! 

'Tis the witch-finder, Hopkins — a bold knave. 

Bankrupt in virtue as in wealth ; and apt 

For any deed — as who can nothing lose 

In either. 
Gabb. Savage brute ! He treads as though 

He'd grind the very turf to powder — ugh I 

\_Enter Matthew Hopkins and two followers 
Hop. This path, they told us, led to the old squire's den ; 

But I don't — Soft you, here are natives. Well, 

Masters, what's stirring hereabouts P 
Gabb. (aside to Need.) That's cool. 

Need. A squirrel on that bough, sir, cracked just now 

A filbert — that proved sour. By yonder stile 

There lies a weasel, simulating slumber ; 

But he 's a cheat, I take it. 
Hop. Sir, you're pleased 

To be facetious. I demand what's new 

In these wood- ways ? 
Need. Why, nothing, sir. That is, 

The devil writes farces, and mankind enact them. 

As for ourselves, we kneel, and, in bright eyes. 

See future fertile acres — buy and sell 

Pigs, oxen, and each other — backbite, jest, 

Gret drunk, and sober. 'Tis, in truth, the world's 

Accustomed chaos — needing one rogue more. 

With good, bold vices, to bind in the whole — 

And that want's furnished. {Aside,) 



THE WITCH-WIFE, 9 

Hop. Will this present path 

Lead us to Pendell Manor ? 
Need, (aside), Not if I 

Can help it. (Abud) No, sir. 
Hop. Know you an old hag, 

One Alison Devise ? 
Need. The honest soul 

Dwells yonder. {^Pointing. 

Hop. (grinning). Honest ... eh, Paul ? 

FoL. (gruffly). Humph I 

Need, (aside). Til lead 

These gentlemen a dance. Well, sirs, for love 

Of such society, T\l be your guide 

To hut and manor both. Come, master Oabb, 

Go with us. 
Gabb. (aside to him). Hang me if I do. Just leave 

Your friend in some convenient ditch, and earn 

The county's thanks. 

[^Exeunt Needham, Hopkins, and followers. 
Now, Antony Gabb, sit down, [^Sits, 

And listen. Sir, should fortune, yet untired 

Of lavishing fair opportunities 

On such a recreant knave — bring that sweet soul 

Across your vision — try, sir, to reflect 

That legs were given for nobler ends than that 

Of simply taking flight — that tongues should speak, 

And lips . . . Confound this fellow ! 

\Re'erder Mabttn. 
Mar.. Still alone? 

Why, where*8 the nymph ? 
Gabb. (svlkUy), Not come. 
Mab. How's that ? I saw her 

Approaching, through the trees. 
Gabb. (starts up). The deuce you did ! 

Good night. Ks getting late. 
Mae. What, don't you want 

To meet her ? 
Gabb. Ye-e-s — I did — but now, it's late — 

It's damp — I'm tired — T\\ catch my death — I've got 

A hole in my stocking. 
Mab. (laughing). In your courage, man I 

Come, come, you don't escape. Stand up, she's here ; 

Stand, or she 11 think you're drunk. 
Gabb. I wish I were. 

No man's afraid, in his cups. 
Mab. Then counterfeit — 

You'll do it to the life. 

b2 



10 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Gabb. Grood thought ! I will — 

But stand heside me. 

[Tkey retire. Enter Cecil., leading Alisoh Dbyiss. 
Axis. Fie on this drear place I 

And on those aches that force me drag my weight 

Of years, so tardily. Now must thou return 

With those poor rcet threading the long, dank grass, 

That teems with agues. Well, wit comes with age, 

And soon you'll hate me. They'll compel you .... Fm 

An old witch, am I ? 
Ceo. Come, be calm, dear Alise. 

If I believed them, I must pity. Now 

You've love and pity both. What creature's this P 

Ah I 'tis my mute adorer — but bewitched, 

And talking I 

[Re-enter Gabb, stumblings as i/ drunk. He 
reels against a tree. 
Gabb. Sir, I really beg your pardon. 

'Twas awkward. I ne'er saw you, till my nose 

Struck yours. Why, what a labyrinth is here I 

Nettles and briers ! Where's my brother-owl ? 

Oh, here you come, you mouser ! [Re-enter Marttn. 

Mab. Whither now ? 

Madam, excuse him, — a poor, harmless soul, 

When he's not drunk. Come on, sir. 
Gabb. Drunk, sir I drunk ? 

Have you the— ears — to say so ? This fair dame — 

This grandame of the wood-nymphs — shall be judge. 

Fair Dryad, am I drunk ? 

[Falls on his knees before Auson. 
Axis. He ! he ! — He seems 

A merry gentleman ! Stand up. Poor thing I 

'Tis very much o'erta'en. 
Cbc. Away — nurse — come. 

Axis. I am ready, darling. 
Gabb. Darling ! — ^A sweet word. [Sits dawn. 

A frank avowal ! All my spirit owns 

The sweet intoxication. I — I choose 

The sitting posture, having thus my legs 

More, as it were, beneath me. Now would men 

Dwell in revolving thickets, thus, thatched roofs 

Would soon be deemed luxurious. 
Mab. (aside to him). Courage. Speak 

To your goddess, man, or leave her. 
Gabb. (aside), 'Faith, I dare not. 

Look at that eye. By heaven, its glances seem 

To thread one, and pass on. 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 11 

Mab. Sharp vision, truly ! . . . . 

Madam, His late, and these are no safe paths 

For such fair pilgrims. Will you accept our escort ? 

We'll leave you at your pleasure. 
Cec. Go, then, now. 

And for this gay, convivial gentleman, 

Whose sin of drunkenness, I fain would hope, 

Is no accustomed guise — so awkwardly 

It sits upon him — take him with you. Look, 

He's marvellously sobered I 
Gabb. (aside), 'Faith, she's right. 

Mab. We are both fools — and I the greater. Come, 

There's comfort for thee. Heaven be with you, madam, 

The field being lost, I yield it, and retire, 

A wise commander, sending, as you see, 

My heavier baggage forward. [^ExU, pushing offQrABB, 

Cec. It has grown 

So dark ! lean harder, Alise — I can bear 

More than you think. How strange ! If I were one 

To harbour gloomy prescience, I could deem 

Some dark, unwonted, evil influence 

Sat brooding o'er this wood. 

[^As they are going out, re-enter Hopkins and fol" 
lowers^ meeting them. 
Hop. A pretty guide ! 

I never knew a fellow could discourse 

In words of twenty syllables, like him, — 

Worth a cock's feather. 
FoLL. He deceived us. 

Hop. Ha ! 

If I were sure of that .... Hallo ! here's game — 

Whirr ! . . . . two birds flushed together 1 
FoLL. Chick and hen. 

Hop. (catching Axis, as they try to pass). 

Stop, neighbour, not so fast. A word with you. 
Cec. (agitated). What do you want ? 
Hop. Why, firstly, child, to see 

From what red, pretty, rustic lip proceeds 

So musical a query. 
Cec. (throws up her head with dignity). There, sir ... . Back, 

And leave me room to pass. 
Hop. (admiringly), £h! .... By these hilts. 

But you're a beauty I No clown-architect 

Built that brow's arch, I take it ! .... You may go, 

Young lady — I have no right to stay you ; but 

This ancient fowl comes or another nest. 

And I must hear her singing. 
Cec. Sir .... 



12 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Hop. {laughing), Don^t be 

So haughty, little madam — I am charged 

To hunt up certain witches hereabout — 

Among them (where's the paper ? — here 'tis) — humph — 

Among them — (reads) one, called Alison Devise — 

An ancient gentlewoman — rather lame — 

Owning a slight ohUqvity of vision — 

Hum — Causes of suspicion — h u m — ah — old — 

Dwells in the forest — keeps a cat — hates beer — 

Refused to kill a toarf— (ner imp, of course) — 

Keeps a wax image — (vicious hag \)— prescribes 

For cows in mortal sickness — hum — which die — 

Here's proof on proof. Stand from before her, Tnaili^Tn — 

Down hood, old girl. If you're not she, I'll eat you. 

Tough as you are — unsalted. [Tears off her hood. 

Seize the witch ! . . . . 

I told you so. 

Cec. Let her alone. Stand back — 

Sir, with your sex a woman's weakness is 
Her best assurance. You, it seems, would turn it 
Against her, as a weapon. Where's your warrant 
Thus to molest us ? None ? 

Hop. That's soon repaired. 

We will but ask this lady's company 
To the next justice. 

Cec. (eagerly). That's Sir Gerald Mole, 

My uncle, who, on full investigation 
Oi the rank follies that disgrace us here. 
Has set her free already. 

Hop. Humph ! Are you 

Niece to that old curmudgeon — I — I mean 
That learned and wealthy squire ? 

Cec. What's that to the purpose ? 

Yet, since you know me, sirs, in courtesy 
Let us begone to- nighty and take my pledge 
That this poor soul be at the Hall to-morrow, 
There to abide your question. 

Hop. No, fair lady. 

You little know the malice of this kind. 
We've stirred her venom now, and, ere the morn, 
Backed by the devil, her lord, she'll scatter round 
A tenfold mischief. That is not my way 
Of doing the work : nor ever doth this nand 
Loose its first gripe, till the foul prey be brought 
To that safe goal — the gallows I 

Cec. She is innocent I 

Heavens ! Can this be ? It will not. You relent — 
You hesitate — 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 13 

Hop. Not I . . . Yet — stay . . . come nearer. 

Don*t be afraid. Is — is your heart much set 
On saving this old hag ? . . . Enough — Pll do't — 
On one condition. 

Cec. Well, sir ; what ? 

Hop. Don't frown — 

Don't start from me — don't hold me drunk, or mad — 
Though I am both, when urg'd to 't— drunk with love — 
As now — 

Cec. (shrinking back). Oh, heaven I 

Hop. Or mad with fury. Listen I 

You must be mine — tush I I mean honestly — 
We are alone, as 'twere, in the dark wood, 
And you shall hear me what I list to speak, 
And answer too. I love you. 

Cec. You ! 

Hop. Ev'n I. 

No saucy glances — no curled lips, I warn you. 
T am not that I seem. I have a name 
For fearless courage — zeal — and sanctity — 
And truth. I feel, within this ragged rind 
Lies a concealed spirit, like a spell. 
Awaiting but the charmer's voice to wake 
Its fine and terrible action. Girl, that voice, 
That power, are thine ! I saw you, and my soul, 
Never yet moved, shrank helpless, stricken, dumb, 
At once your slave — and destiny. 

Cec. (faintly), I pray you — 

Hop. (catching her). Stay — you must hear — must speak too — for 
the game's 
Begun, and must be played out now, 1 love — 
I love you, maiden ! I've no mincings, drawled 
By feathered apes o' the world, but by this sword — 
And that's a soldier's oath — PU woo you like 
A soldier. 

Cec. Will you ? Then begone, and know, 

When you would practise on a woman's fears, 
The true road to her heart — at least, to mine, 
Lies not through terror. 

Hop. (eagerly). The true road I 

Cec. rU not 

Deceive vou. This is idleness I To you, 
And such as you, there's none. 

Hop. (furiously). Then (checking himself) — 

Stay ... so young. 

And fair, and pitiless ! . . . I was not always 
The man you see me now. My youth, stripped bare 
Of all sweet subtleties that win mmkmd^ 



14 THE WITCH-WIFB. 

Was wasted in vain search for bliss. At length, 

I touch it — and t*is ashes. 
Cbc. Am I free 

To leave you now ? 
Hop. You are^ with this assurance, 

That, as you scorn me, and reject my love. 

So shall you find the hate you calmly dare, 

As strong as love, but deadlier. Our short strife. 

Passed in the dull depths of the silent wood, 

Keven^e shall visit you within the gaze 

Of gapm^ thousands, and before this sun .... [^Ooei 

Ho I — Michael 1 — Voules I 

^Followers advance with Au 
FoL. Here, master. 
Hop. Let her go. 

FoL. Eh ? 
Hop. Let her go, man. Did your grandame never 

Teach you 'twas wisdom to expend a sprat 

To catch a grampus ? We have greater ends 

To compass, than are gathered in the grilling 

This piece of parchment skin. 
Axis. Heaven bless you, sir, — 

You're very kind. 
Hop. Enough — a witch's benisons 

Are doubtful gifts. {Hesitatingly) . . . Madam, if I m 
touch 

That hand — mistake me not — the pact is made — 

Are we not foes ? 
Cbc. On that condition — [^Gives her h 

Hop. Trust me 

I will fulfil it — to the death — Farewell. 



ACT II. 
SCENE L 



Apartment in a Hunting Lodge, opening in the Forest, 

Enter Mabttn and Gabb. 

Gabb. I say again — Pm satisfied. I say 

Tve every reason to be no less pleased 

Than flattered, by such notice. Why, you saw 

Our meeting P 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 15 

Mab. Plain enough. If that meant lave^ 

Heaven keep me from its tokens I 
Gabb. I confess 

My nymph is somewhat of the panther kind, 

As stem as heautifuL 
Mab. a pleasant beast 

For semblance — that accepts her love with growls 

Below all vocal divings, and soft pats 

Would smash a human occiput I Come, come, 

You*re disappointed. Own it. 
Gabb. Not at all. 

Last night I added to my calendar 

A golden day. 
Mab. a what ? 

Gabb. A golden day. 

Those, sir, are golden davs on which I hold 

Converse with Mistress Cecil. 
Mab. So ! it seems 

The ice is broken ? 
Gabb. Not precisely. She 

Ne'er fails to greet me, but, to say truth, my tongue 

Has, up to this time, steadfastly declined 

Articulation. 
Mab. Then what passes ? 

Gabb. This, 

" Ah, Master Gabb r or else, " Good morning, «r,*' 

Or, " Here's a fine day. Master Gabb r For thus 

(As though to keep me longer at her side) 

SheUl spin out common-places. Sometimes *tis 

Most sweet, and graceful, and confiding, as — 

" Shotdd you meet Goody Plumstick gathering wood, 

Say that I have been at her cot, and left her what 

Will cure her toothache,'^ These are golden days. 

And so recorded. Silver ones are those 

On which we meet, but speak not ; and all else 

Are of that blank complexion, that no base 

Dishonoured metal *s poor enough to note 

Their sadness in. 
Mab. Why, then, in point of fact, 

Your suit stands still ? 
Gabb. Sir, on the contrary. 

It flies— it rushes ! Hem ! {Drops a paper, 

Mab. Hollo, there I What I 

\_Snatches it up. 

Another poem ? 
Gabb. £h ! . . . well, read. I know 

We are in honourable hands. 



16 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Mab. (reads). He whose time-meUowed judgment^ as isJUy 

Holds passion reverence^ and silence wit, — 

He that hath love^ hath courage^ time,, andpotoer^ 

Shoidd read the stars this night on MaUun Tower, 

And pray, 

Where found you this mysterious bidding ? 
Gabb. Finned, 

Like a sweet postscript, to a loving scroll, 

Whereon this teeming brain had lately spent 

Some idleness in rhyme. 
Mab. You'll «) ? 

Gabb {gravely), I will. 

Poor tning ! One can't do less, you know. 
Mab. Perchance 

Two can do more. FU go with you. 
Gabb. Why— eh I— 

You see, she doesn't propose that — 
Mab. As you will. 

Only take care. 
Gabb. Care I— eh? 

Mab. You have no faith 

In such things. One in your lost state believes 

In nothing but his mistress. 
Gabb. Such things I What things ? 

Mab. Why, know you not that yonder Malkin Tower 's 

A sort of witch -cathedral? All the hags 

Of the district gather there to consecrate 

Unholy sabbaths, raising, we may say. 

In truth, the devil's own row — since he himself 

Presides there. How's the moon ? Why, as I live. 

It is their very night — their storm — ^their revel — 

Their St. Walpurga I 
Gabb. Is it ? Hang it now. 

That's most unlucky. Stay, I think I know 

A counter-charm. There's Matthew Hopkins ! Fll 

To him at once, and bid him lay his nets 

For a fine haul. 
Mab. a brilliant thought. About it. 

Why, there he passes. After him at once I 

The time draws on — ^'tis noon already. 
Gabb. No I [^Exewid 



THE WITCH-WIPE. 17 

SCENE n. 

Sib Gebaij>*8 Study, 
Snt Gebaij) {studying), Cecil. 

Sib G. Quod erai demonstrandum, WondVous volume ! 

Thou philosophical magic ! — mass of marvels! 

How through thy clear, yet complex tracery 

Of line and circle, mighty truths evolve, 

And grow to life I Why, pet ! 
Cec. (starting^ drops her book). Dear uncle I 

Sib G. Come, 

Tve solved my problem, let's have yours. It seems 

The harder, love. Why don't you talk ? 
Cec. (smiling). And spoil 

Some great discovery ? 
Sib G. (gravely). You would not, Cecil. 

Talk when you will, my child, I can resign 

With ease the filmiest and most subtle thread 

Of argument, and, when your voice has hushed 

Its music, turn, old spider as I am. 

To my unbroken meshes. 'Tis because 

That happy spirit, like a hidden sun, 

Is ever beaming on me. So our blood 

Huns its articulate course, dispensing life. 

Vigour, and health, through this wrought frame, the while 

The functions of the busy brain proceed, 

And, feeling, heed it not. Come, let me hear 

Your voice. Speak ! Ask ! Sometimes I cannot hold 

Pace with your questions. 
Cbc. So I will. Now listen. 

Dear uncle, you are very learned ? 
Sib G. (smiling). Indeed I — 

Who told you so ? 
Cec. But are you not ? 

Sib G. Well, weU— 

A thing or so, perhaps. 
Cec. Learned—and kind — 

And just ? 
Sib G. I hope so, chick. 

Cec. (starts up and throws herself on his neck). You don't believe 

Nurse Alison's a witch ? You don't believe 

There's one in the wood — in the county — in the land ? 

In earth or heaven ? You, uncle, grave and wise. 

Cannot yield up your great prerogative 

Of reason, judgment, truth, to thai vtvVi ^t^»sBi> 



18 THE WITCH-WIFB. 

Bom of an idiof s fancy — nursed by knaves — 

Insult to Nature, and to Nature's God — 

That hideous, writhing mockery of nothing, 

That men call witchcraft f 
Sib G. Soft — nay, soft, my chOd I 

There, be composed ; I never saw you thus 

Before. These matters are too deep and strange 

For vour young judgment yet. Some ten years henee 

Well argue them. 
Cec. Some ten years hence ! . . And what 

Till then P 
Sib G. Go, darling— run to Mistress Frill : 

'Tis school-time, eh ? 
Cbc. First promise — 

SibG. What? 

Cec. To give 

No heed to any that shall seek to use 

Your warrant, and the name of English law, 

Against poor souls like Alison. 
Sib G. Come, come, 

What know you of these matters ? 
Cec. Till to-morrow — 

That's but a day. 
Sib G. I cannot promise, child. 

Fm but a servant of the commonweal ; 

I trust to hear no more on't. 
Cec. Wait, at least, 

Till youVe consulted Master Needham, 
SibG. / 

Consult I Come, to your lessons ! Stay, how dare you 

Go without kissing me ? 
Cec. (runs hack and kisses him). There, there, remember ! [ExU. 
Sib G. Qookine after). It's odd enough. I always thought, till now. 

Dame Nature, through her fair gradations, glides 

With step so slow and noiseless that no eye 

Detects the stealthy movement. Hitherto, 

The babe we nurse on Monday is not much 

Too big on Tuesday ; nay, a fortnight thence. 

May still be danced and fondled. iVbtr, it seems, 

The world's received an impetus, a spur — 

The toy we doat on goes to rest a child. 

And rises woman ! 

Enter Hopkins hastily; Stebjh foUows. 
Hop. a fine dance, indeed ! — 

High time I came among ye. Here we've plumped 

Into the heart of witchdom. What d'ye say 

To that, Sir Gerald ? 
Sib G. (abstracted). That, sir, if the bases 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 19 

And altitudes of solid parallelograms 

Be but reciprocally proportion^, 

The parallelopipeds are equal too. 
\ 'Tis most unanswerable. (Aside) The old fool ! 

As well accost a milestone. . . . Sir, I need 

Your warrant to take certain rogues, suspect 

Of devilish arts. A warrant, and, perchance, 

More power, to 

G. Power, sir P * . Where's your lever P 

p. Lever ? 

G. Sir, the immortal genius, Archimedes, 

Wrote ('tis in science' annals, " Give" wrote he, 

" Give me a lever mdy big enough, 

And a mere place to fix it, and theretvith 

rU move the worlds Great man I 
». A wizard, sir ! 

And that perforce recalls me from your wise. 

Instructive converse, to the work in hand. 

That warrant P 
I. Haste. 

G. (aside), Now, could I but divert 

Their thoughts till Marchmont Needham comes ! Let's see — 

Some lively problem. . . . Master Hopkins, one 

Of your grave aspect, cannot but have drunk 

At geometric fountains — revelled in 

The luxury of angles. 
p. (aside). We must try 

Another system with him. . . . Sir, Tve given 

My brightest years to mathematical lore, 

And found all 's nothing. Algebra's a hoax — 

Euclid a humbug — a pedantic ass — 

I saw it — and exposed him. 
G. Did you so ? — 

Obli^ me with a trifling illustration 

Of his absurdities. Just cause to meet 

Two parallel lines. Or will you square the circle ? 
p. Square what P 
. G. The circle. 

p. (boldly). Yes. 

. G. The deuce you will ! 

Science has offered some ten thousand crowns 

To him shall do it. 
p. She has P The liberal soul I— 

Tm half ashamed to take it. Ne'ertheless, 

Just to oblige . . . Now, sir, attend to me — 

^Takes the chalk and approaches board, 

A is a country justice, kind, but weak. 

B is a zealous witch-destroyer, thwarted 



20 THE WITCH-WIFK. 

And crossed by A; — C is the public, looking 
To both for comfort and protection. — Well P 

SiE G. (reluctantly). The point is clear — 

Hop. Most lucid. Or, again, 

Let A, 6, C, be certain witches ; D, 
The — hem — the devil — and E, a ducking-pond — 
Now, then, His plain that lines from A, B, Cf, 
Produced to E, and there united, passing 
Downward to D, get their desert — and there 
We'll, with permission, leave them, and proceed 
To business. Now, sir — \_0ffer8 pen and paper. 

Sib G. (writes reluctarUly). You will need some aid 

To back the warrant — eh ? — Let's see — let's see — 
Old Simon Mopchase — bedrid, to be sure — 
But then his name — as constable — 

Hop. No fear, 

Tve three stout villains — pious knaves enoush — 
Who put their trust in God and carry cudgels — 
And llichard Stem — the eloquent. Ere you sleep. 
Look for some news. Sir Gerald. 

Ste. Plenty. [^Exeunt Hopkins and Stebn. 

Sib G. (alone). There — 

'Tis done — and now, as eager to reproach 
My too precipitate yielding — here comes Needham! 

[Enter Mabch. Nebbham. 
Why, you seem breathless. What's the matter, boy P 

Need. Does yonder ruffian lie ? 

Sib G. These walls contain 

No ruffians, Master Needham. 

Need. True, Sir Gerald. 

They have attained their object. They have wrung 
From your unthinking judgment what the law 
Wisely withheld — and have set forth to grasp 
Their helpless prey at will. This little pen 
Has pricked a vein of innocent blood, will drain 
The life from bosoms that ne'er beat with aught 
But love to you — goodwill and charity 
To all mankind. Shame — shame, sir — 

Sib G. Master Needham, 

I would forgive this speech — you're hot and young — 
Age, sir, that dims our eyes, destroys, at least. 
That fine, false medium which in early years 
Clothes guilt in rosy attributes. Enough — 
Sit down — and PU reward you with a problem 
Unmatched in simple grandeur. Let — 

Need. Excuse me — 

This nonsense — 

SiB G. (starting up). Nonsense I — Look, sir — here's a problem 



k 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 21 

Asks no great wit to solve. See — from this point, 

This centre, A (my manor-house), I draw 

A circle, B, C, D, within the which 

I do not ask your entrance. [^Eocit. 

Need. I was wrong 

To cross his humour — yet, so far, it spares 

Expenditure of thanks and compliment — 

For here^s a more implacahle summoner 

Chiding me hence. [^Takes out a letter, 

" What madness chains you, man f 

What spell beguiles you from the noble strife 

Your soul was pledged to f Wherefore cast your staff 

Aside, and like a tardy pilgrim sit 

Dreaming beside the waters f Up! Awake ! 

Come to lifers battle — and earn rest The worn 

And wayward sleep, Th&drt neither ^ 

Good, hlunt friend — 

I love thee — have thy will. And yet, methinks 

E*en thy stoic nature might discern 

Discretion in my madness. Am I asked 

What spell ? — Ah — Cecil — it replies I 
Enter Cecuj and Maggie. 
Cec. Do that. 

And then return — TU keep your skipping-rope — 

'Twill bring you hack the sooner. 

{Exit Maggie. 
Master Needham! — 

With that grave aspect ? What's the matter, sir ? 
Need. I cannot laugh. 
Cec. {skipping). Nor skip ? — There — mind your eye, 

I saw you wink. Keep off, then. 
Need. Cecil — Cecil ! — 

Cec. Well — what's the matter ? O, I did not tell you 

Our frolic for to-night. 'Tis all arranged — 

Masks, dresses, broomsticks — 
Need, (amazed). What do you mean ? 
Cec. a feast 

Of little witches, sir, is held to-night 

In the dells of Pendell Forest. There's a moon 

Brightening expressly — dews will keep their distance — 

And there's a hand of merry forest-minstrels, 

n>d by one Signor Cicala), engaged 

To dance to. You'll be there ? 
Need. Alas I — I must 

To horse within this hour. 
Cec. To horse at once ! — 

And make haste back, sir. 
Need. I shall be — 



22 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Cbc. Too happy. 

Of course, you will. Be back by half-past nine — 

For at that wizard hour Sir Gerald Mole 

Will be in the moon with Euclid — Mistress Frill, 

In a laced night -cap, safe in bed — and I, 

With twenty other madcap damsels, culled 

Out of my village-pets o* the vicinage, 

Holding a banquet in the Malkin Tower, 

Shall craze the owls that mope there. 

Need. Are you mad? 

Or jesting ? 

Cec. Neither, sir. Ere now, you've told me 

(More truly than politely) I was strange 
In fancy, as in deed — defying rule. 
Marching to strange — not all unworthy — ends, 
By quick cross-paths, while others will jog round. 
Pay toll, and pass more safely. And, in truth, 
YouVe right enough, I fear — for when at chess 
I beat my uncle— dear old dreamer ! planning 
Some wondrous game — with a quick thought, at once 
Conceived and execute —he cries, " Ah ! psha ! 

Absurd . . . unscientific ^ So it was ; 

But then it won the game ! 

Need. And may I know 

The secret of your present plan, that seems 
To my plain, heavy judgment, dark enough. 
And perilous withal? 

Cec. Assuredly. 

The plot, sir, has two branches. Master Gabb 

Loves me, and needs discouragement. He, therefore. 

Has been beguiled to meet — you'll not guess whom ; 

And hear — 1 11 not say what. A graver end 

Is this — to prove to such as, on pretext 

Of witchcraft, dog the steps and hunt the life 

Of every lame and ancient gentlewoman. 

That they are fools, and might as well harm me 

For May-day masqueing and fantastic sports. 

As those for sorcery. Ridicule's the cure 

For these witch -seekers. Never trust my word, 

If I don't make them dance to-night to a time 

Shall hiss them from the county ! 

Need. Would to Heaven 

I might have stayed to-night, were 't but to mix 
With this unmellowed plot a drop or two 
Of plain discretion I But I must begone — 
Must hid farewell! Sweet Cecil, will you hold 
Your poor friend in remembrance ? Will you, Cecil ? 

Cec. (faintly). You're saying this to vex me. 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 23 

:i). *Tis too true — 

I go to-night. 

Why, then, you're very cruel. 

I thought you loved us all : that's why Tve teased you. 

You might have studied Euclid all day long. 

In peace and comfort, else. And now you leave 

The hawk — the spaniels — Mistress Frill — and me ; 

And more than these — ^than all — the kind old man 

That loves and leans on you ! 
SD. But he himself 

Desires it. And, were that not so, a voice 

As potent calls me. Cecil — 
. (passionately). Go, then — go I 

VV^hy do you wait ? — what care for here ? O Heaven I 

To Gwell six happy months, accepting love. 

Respect, and hospitality ; and when 

You've stol'n our fancies, just turn on your heel — 

And part ! 'Tis cruel — cruel I We're well rid 

Of such a guest. I'm very glad to lose you— 

Only — it — breaks my heart I IBursts into tears, 

SD. What do I hear ? 

Away, suspense I ^Throws himself at kerfeet 

O Cecil ! O sweet bird ! 

Start not to hear this strange and sudden tongue — 

I love you, Cecil ! Common love needs time 

And grace to perfect it, but mine was born 

Gigantic — sprang to manhood at a leap — 

And stretches to you its true, honest arms. 

Offering a refuge where your love shall, in 

Its own good season, flourish too ! You blush — 

You tremble ! . . . Cecil, do you love me ? 

Perhaps — I — Fm not sure. You needn't ask 

Such downright questions. 
;d. Cecil, I must take 

My fortune with me. Sweet one, can you guess 

What love is ? 

Yes ; amour^ of course. It was 

My first French noun. I asked dear Mistress Frill 

Tne meaning. 

D. And she ? 

Hemmed and ha'd — and frowned — 

First simpered — then looked stem — and said at last, 

" A longing for sourfruitr 
I). Good Madam Nature 

Interprets far more sweetly. Cecil — speak I 

I love you — will you be my vrife ? 



24 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Cbc. You love P — 

And you'll be gone to-night ? 

Nebd. It is love's self 

That spurs me. Sweet, you shall know all — meanwhile, 
This scholar's gown grows threadbare. I must woo 
Dame Fortune for a fitter. 

Cec. No^in that — 

And that alone — approach me. There's my hand. 
Kiss gentlier. 

Need. Why, the eloquence that scorches 

On the dumb lip can find no better vent 
Than burning kisses. O be faithful to me — 
Be kind — be loving. But a few short weeks — 
Then, re-united — passing hand in hand 
Into that sunny vista, love's bright world — 
We'll make its paths eternal. Now, farewell — 
Farewell I One kiss, my Cecil. O the music 
Of those sweet wedded words ! . . . . And you'll give up, 
For my sake — will you not ? — this wizard scheme 
To-night ? 

Cbc. (smiling). I've little heart for it now, believe me — 
But it's too late. 

Need. Indeed I . . . Well, dearest — may 

The kind intent hallow the mystic means 
You work with I One word — and I go — Sweet Cecil ! 
There are some points in every life wherein 
All wandering rays of happiness converge — 
Ev'n in such haven, such sweet, sheltering bay. 
We anchor now. Then, loveliest, once more search 
Thy heart. If changed from its first prompting, here — 
Here, in this quiet wilderness, my fate 
Interpret to me. So content I am 
To know the world no nearer, here Fd pause — 
Here, at thy feet, lie down — here rest— here die I 

Cec. (smiling). The search were fruitless, sir — I never loved 
Until you taught me. If the lesson's good 
Lies in the proof, / doubt. O Marchmont, Marchmont ! - 
May Heav'n forgive you I 

Need. Sweet, for what ? 

Cec. You've spoiled 

The calmest, sunniest^ and most innocent dream ! — 
/ thought I was a child . . . . O love — love— love I 
If you enrich us, 'tis but a debt repaid — 
You robbed us first, therefore we owe you nothing. 
I am a slave now — must be docile — grave- 
Never climb trees again, nor care for skipping ! 
O, if you knew how I have nursed this dream — 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 25 

This happy, careless, thoughtless, tearless dream — 
You would have spared it for a while— not plucked 
This young old age upon me ! Heav'n forgive you I — 
/won't — till you return. — (Aside) Who knows? — perhaps 
You'll come the sooner for it. 

NfiBi>. {eagerly), Cecil ! 

Ctic, (motions hm away). There! — 

Leave me — don't speak I Away, I say ! lExii Needham. 

Gone — gone ! [Bursts into tears. 



ACT III. 

SCENE I. 
In the wood. Near evening, 

Enter Gabb and Hopkins. 

Gabb. In point of fact, then, — (do I take you right ? 

If not, correct me), witch or no witch, 'tis 

My duty to mount guard on Malkin Tower, 

And take what follows ? 
Hop. Every principle 

Of love demands it, sir. A man is hound, 

Says Euclid, to keep love-tryst, though he stump 

Bleeding and footless thither. 
Gabb. Hang it, man ! 

Can't you use milder illustrations ? . . . Euclid ! 

Those ancient poets were such hutchers ! !N^othing 

Would serve but blood — our wiser time's content 

With guileless milk and water. Never mind — 

I must not quarrel with my monitor. 

A confidant is, to a man in love. 

Essential as a mistress. 
Hop. (aside). So 't would seem. 

ril wager, not a soul in twenty miles 

But has been yours. 
Gabb. *T is almost time. You'll walk 

Some little distance, eh ? 
Hop. I'll keep aloof. 

My hounds are out. If there's a witch i' the wood. 

She'll grunt her vespers to the devil, her lord, 

'Twixt four stone walls to-night. Come, sir, away. 
Gabb. Tm rather — nervous. 
Hop. Have no fear. You go 

On a high mission, man. The world's large heart 

Expands with symp 



V 



26 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Gabb. The world's large countenance 

Expands with mirth — when any great mishap 
Betalls one. So he near me, as you promised. 
And if you hear me whistle, — so— - 

Hop. Or scream, 

S?hat*s hetter), — we'll he with you. All success, 
ow now ? W hy, what's the matter ? Hold up, man ! 
Is it a witch ? 
Gabb. Yes,— or a woman, — now. 

Should it he her— 

[Enter Stebn and two others^ disguised at old 
women peasants. 
Hop. Well done, my rustic heauties ! 

Here's masqueins, 'faith I Pray know this gentleman : 
Sir, Mistress Ricoard Stem, — Miss Sampson Voules, — 
The lady Peter Bullman. Covert, boys ! 
Stay, though, — I'll post you. Master Gahb, you stare : 
You'll see more wonders yet, sir. Come along. [Exeunt. 



SCENE n. 

A glade in Pendefl Forest. Exterior of the ruin called Malhin 
Tower, Moonlight, A village girl enters disguised as an old 
ugly woman with broom ; her dress torn and disordered. 

Gull (crying). Fierce brute I . . . . Yet he's a civil dog enough 
By daylight. [Another enters suddenb/. 

2 GiBL. Judy I 

1 GiEL (starting), Who^who's that P Dear--dear ! 

I thought it was a wolf. 

2 GiBL. It's Katty Hewit. 

How pale you look, child ! What s the matter ? 

1 GiBL. Matter ! 

If you'd been half devoured by Burrough's mastiff 
You might look pale. Kate — I do think 'tis wrong, 
A-flying, you may say, in the parson's face. 
Pretending to be witches. 

2 GiBL. Nothing 's wrong. 

Miss Cecil says. Td play the very 

1 GiBL (stopping her mouth). Hush ! 

You wouldn't. Here's some more. Thank goodness ! 

[Enter Maggie, and several others, simuariy disguised, 

2 GiBL. Maggie, 

Here's a repentant witch. Let's send her home, 
Or she'll infect the party. 
Mag. Little coward I 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 27 

Don^t mind. FU give her heart. Take courage, Judv. 

(Aside) You know the white-thorn on the Lowmoor, child ? 

Just think youVe there, and young Will Peters — 
iGisL. Stuff! 

He didn't. 
Mag. What ? 

1 GiBL. Why, kiss me I 

Mag. Well ? and pray — 

Who said he had ? 
1 Girl. You did, or,— eh, — perhaps 

You might, if I hadn't stopped you. 
Enter Cecil, dUgvised, 
Cec. Scolding, children ? 

Do you forget you're not mere flesh and hlood, 

But witches ? things that own no foe hut truth, 

Reason, and sense . . . ahem, {aside) the last, I fear. 

Is scarce upon our side. It's past the time ; 

I stopped to listen to a nightingale : 

He had a deal to say, and to my ear 

Ne'er sang so sweetly. Well, he's flown. Let's see, — 

Are we afl here ? What I only ten in all ? 

Where's my pet Rhoda ? 
Mag. Frightened, and gone home. 

And Polly Frere, in squeezing through the lattice. 

Was caught hy her mother, whipped, and put to hed. 

Two witches less ! 
Cbc. And Dorcas Fames ? 

A LITTLE Girl. She's got 

The hooping-cough, my lady. 
Cbc. Little imp I 

Give me a kiss. Come, then, let's make the hest 

Of our scant fellowship. Witches, I hope 

You met some honest people by the way. 

And let yourselves be seen ? I've other ends 

Than a mere moonlight skipping, clothed in rags, 

I promise ye. Have courage, and observe 

All that I said this morn. Maggie, the paper 

I bade you hang on the oak, — did Master Gabb 

Detect it ? 
Mag. Yes : I watched him from the tower : 

He spelled it twice, then tossed his hat in the air. 

So gaily that it caught upon the tree. 

And he'd to climb .... 
Cec. Qiostay). Hush I Skip I 

[They retire to the Tower and other spots, as Gabb enters, 
Gabb. The wood's asleep. 

I wish I could say snoring. Any sound, 



28 THE WITCH-WIPE. 

How rude soe'er, were melody. Fd sing, 
But that the echoes in this cursed dell 
Give one's own voice a witchy twang. Til try. 
Halloo! . . . 
GntLS (within). Halloo — o — o I 

Gabb (starting), I thought so. Hang it, now ! 

That echo 's in the day-time a mere grunt, — 
The north wind with a quinsy, — a hoarse sob. 
(Calls). DorCt—he — a— fool! 
GntLS (vnthvnfrom different parts). Fool . . fool . . fool . . fool! 
Mag. (from the Tower), You fool ! 

Gabb. It is herself; she knows me I There's no echo, 
Save in this bosom. Help me, Love I the path 
Up to thy bower is dark, and (might I judge 
By certain irritations), slightly fringed 
With stinging-nettles. Hah ! \_A bluish light seen within. 

Thanks, sweetest Hero ! 
Leander comes. My ancle! . . . Ha! . . . a toad! 
So, one more scramble, and all's safe. Fm — 

[^The interior of the Tower becomes stiddenly iSunu- 
nated; Gabb starts and falls bach to the ground. 

Help! 
Song (within). 
Imp and mtch, to the Malkin gate^ 
In all strange shapes, assemble ! 
Gather, till with the fiendish weight 
The old walls shriek and tremble ! 
Snake from muddy pit, toad from tomb. 

Cat from the cottage ember ; 
Hurrah for the hell-broth, banquet, broom. 
Blue fog, and black November, 

Gabb. Mercy ! I'm in the witch-trap,-- caught — betrayed : 

Poof! (tries to whittle) poof! . . . my lips are parched ; Til 

creep away. 
And give them notice. 
Cec. (within). Folly, in man's form, 

Approaches ! Rutterkin, out, — out, good fiend, 
And make it prisoner. 

[Owe of the girls, dressed as a huge rough dog, runs 
down and seizes Gabb. Cecil arid the rest fol- 
lowing, enter on all sides. 

Gently, gently, fiend ! 
Seize, but don't mangle him at first. — The wretch 
Must have witch- baptism. See that's all prepared : 
Then to your nightly pleasures. Tituba, 
You're but a baby imp ; stay with your mistresg. 



I 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 29 

Cloyse, hunt the yellow raven. Hawthorn I Ball ! 

Burn Goody Joyce's haggard . . . Fancy I Fancy ! 

Bite the brown cow ! 
G ABB (aside). Amiable pleasantries ! 

What mischief next, I wonder ? They surround me. 

Now for an incantation. 
Cec. Join your hands I 

[/n a low chanting voice. 
All ye that have stolen the miller's eels, 

Laudate Dominum de cceVs ; 
All ye that have given consent thereto, 
Benedicamus Domiiu) I 

{Aside) Dear Marchmont ! 

Who taught me that rude rhyme ? Now, Heav'n be praised ; 

You cannot see this folly ! 
Gabb. Worthy souls ! — 

Cec. He calls us worthy ! Tie a knot in his tongue 

For lying I 
Gabb. Mercy ! I retract. Vile hags I 

Cec. Vile! 
Gabb. I beg pardon ; mild, or mischievous, — 

Lovely, or loathsome, — foetid, or fragrant, — belles, 

Or beldames : only let me *scape you now. 

And never shall tnis Christian hoof again 

Impress your cursed precincts. 
Cec. No, youVe seen 

Too much of our dark doings. We must take 

Judgment and memory from you. Ho ! there ! bring 

The goblet filled with nightmare's blood, and spiced 

With acorns. (Cup brought). Drink, or die ! 
Gabb (aside). And die, you mean . . . 

I am forbid fermented liquors ; pray, 

Excuse me. Tve a bilious habit. 
Cec. Come — 

To supper, then. We only staid for you. 
Gabb. You're very kind. (Aside) I wonder what foul dish 

They browse on ! 
Cec. Wretch! I read thy thought. To-night 

We've got a sodden— /oo// 
Gabb (uneasily). A what P 

Cec. You'll know 

In time, poor creature. Does the cauldron boil ? 
Mao. Dread mistress, no. 
Cec. Drop in the woolly knot 

Pluck'd from a bat's left ear. Now for a dance 

To give us an appetite, and then — 

[il grotesque dance^ during which several ^figures 
enter^ and mingle with them. 



30 THE WITCH- WIFE. 

Cbc. (pausing suddenly). Dark comers ! 

Whatever you are, disclose yourselves ! 

[Hopkins and the rest throw off thev' disguises ; aU 
fly^ but Cecil. 
Hop. That will we. 

Cec. (hurriedly). Stay, children, stay ! Flight ruins all. Remain, 

And you are safe. 
Hop. (aside to the rest). Disperse, don't hold them. (Aloud) Fools! 

You can't bestride the moon-beams. Let them go ; 

We've got the queen-witch safe. 
Cbc. (eagerly). Back, little fools ! 

Shew what you are. 
Hop. Why, so they do. All vanished, — 

Fiend, imp, and sucking- witch. . . Ho I Master Gabb, 

Stand up, man ! 
Gabb (beivUdered), Night-mare's blood ! 
Hop. a donkey's tail ! 

What witchcraft, out on theft, has bagged the wite 

Of this poor gentleman ? 
Cec. Whate'er it was, 

The venture was a bold one. Master Gabb, 

If I, and those poor frightened maids, have used 

Some merry freedoms with you, pardon them, 

And see us safely hence. 
Gabb. I— I— eh !— I— 

Hop. Look how he shrinks, and trembles ! 
Gabb. When she speaks. 

Strange thrills come over me. 
Hop. Yes, that's her spell I 

Come, bring the witch along. 
Cec. The witch! Keep off! 

I know your ruffian leader. But, for you, 

Beware, sirs, how you use me. I am a lady. 

Niece of Sir Gerald Mole. 
Hop. Indeed! Then — ^lady — 

Niece of old Mole— but, ne'ertheless, a witch, 

Will you be pleased to walk, or shall we make 

A litter for your dainty ladyship. 

To visit the town-gaol ? 
Cec. You dare not use 

This vile indignity ! Nor, for the sport 

We follow — 
Hop. Pretty sport ! WTio was't that bade 

Fire Groody Joyce's naggard ? See ! 

lA conflagration is seen rising. 
Cec. (aghast). Great Heaven ! 

What have I done ? 
Hop. You hear ? She owns it. Come — 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 31 

Cec. (/atntly). To the Manor. 

Hop* What's the use? Your worthy uncle's 

In his first sleep : but, if it's any comfort, 

Here's his own warrant. {Ande) Struggle as you will, 

You're in the net. 
Cec. (aside), O Marchmont ! had I ta'en 

Thy counsel ! 
Hop. Come — (aside to them) Who fired the haggard ? 

Stb. I. iJaxeunt, 



ACT IV. 

SCENE L 

HaU in the Manor, 



Sib Gebald, much altered, sits at the table, regarding his books, Sfc» 
with a vacant and bewildered mantter ; Gabb and Mistbess Fbill 
deated apart, watching him. 

Mis. F. (sighing). I fear you're wrong. 

Gabb. Excuse me, I am clear 

He did. He spoke distinctly, — ** Master Gabb, 
Sit down, sir; you* re a fool. ' 

Mis. F. (eagerly). Did he say that ? 

Gracious be thanked ! I thought his wits were gone. 

Gabb. At least, perhaps, they're wakening ; and of course. 
At first, see mistily. " Fool " is a word 
That means so little I I knew a merry squire 
Would pinch his wife by the ear, and call her ** fool," — 
" His pretty, jealous fool." . . . Well, I must take 
My leave. I fear I tire you ; but, in truth. 
Since that accursed eve in the Malkin Tower, 
I have no comfort, object, act, or thought. 
Out of your presence ! Dearest mistress Frill, 
I love — 

Mis. F. Sir ! 

Gabb. Yes. Of course — to talk with you 

Of mistress Cecil. Idiot that I was, 
Not to perceive 'twas jesting ! / to bear 
Witness against her ! May my tongue be seared first ! 
O, Cedl ! Cecil I Oh, my goodness ! 

[ Walks about mwch agitated. 



32 THE WITCH-WIFB. 

Six G. (looking up). Cecil I . . . . 

She's to be tried to-day. 

Mm. F. (tmde). Who told him that ? . . . 

Nonsense, my dear Sir Grerald ! Turn your thoughts 
To rectinatural pipeds. 

Six G. (sternly). Recti what? 

You don't know what you talk of. Never think 
To play on me. Alack, I know there's something 
Gone from my brain ! I can't define a rhombus. 
They'd whip a schoolboy for the faults I make 
In multilateral polygons. But one thought 
Is nailed and rooted here. I moan it o'er 
Nightly before I sleep. My darling's tried 
To-day for witchcraft. 

Mis. F. Heav'n protect its own ! 

We are powerless. 

Six G. Are we ? Where's my mantle? Come, 

Let's go. 

Mis. F. But, dear sir, whither ? 

Six G. To the court. 

I have a word to speak, if my heart hold. 
But time grows brief. . . Good Master Gabb, you loved 
My poor child, did you not ? Be welcome, sir. 

\_ExU^ leaning on Mistkess Fxill. 

Gabb. ** / loved his child^'* and " welcome'* Does that mean 
Welcome to love her ? Hem ! I only wish 
He'd found that out before. It's like a man 
Bidding " Good morning " as one goes to bed, — 
More courtesy than significance. Oh, brain, 
For once be active for some good ! Devise 
Some means to save this angel. Would to Heav*n 
Needham were still among us I To my mind 
There is about him a plain, simple wisdom, 
That, in his presence, really makes ^ne feel 
Almost an ass ! If he should — 

[^Starts back from the voindaw. 
Heav'n forefend 
This should be witchcraft ! . . Yes, one can't mistake 
His eager step. 'Tis Needham, as I live ! — 
But spurred and cloaked .... \^Leans out at the window. 
Hist! Hillo! March mont! Stop! 
Don't you know Antony Gabb ? I'm coming. Wait ! 

[BwM out. 



THE WITCH-WIFS. 38 

SCENE n. 

In the Grounds, 

Enter Mabchmont Needham. 

Need. When flight's impossible, 'tis wise to shew 

A fair front to the enemy. Master Gabb I \^Enter Gabb. 
Welcome ! How thrives the Muse ! 

Gabb. The Muse be hanged ! 

Need. So, so I A lover's quarrel ? 

Gabb. I shall change 

Your tone, or I'm mistaken. 

Need. Pardon me. 

I can be grave — and ought — for, to say truth. 
Some strange misgiving has enticed me back 
Long ere I purposed. Prithee, what 's the matter ? 
This Hopkins has not 

Gabb. (eagerly). Yes, he has. 

Need. Found out 

Some grandame flirting with the devil, and clapped 
His steeple hat upon them ? 

Gabb. Worse. 

Need. Sir Gerald's 

Gabb. Mad — and no wonder. 

Need, (impatiently). Out with your tale. If 'tis 

Of the wounding nature, use it like a sword. 
Not like a gimlet. Mistress — Cecil ? No, 
They dare not do it ! 

Gabb. Mistress Cecil chose 

To play the witch in the wood. Upon the sport 
Came Hopkins and his ruffians. All were scared 
And fled, save that sweet angel, whom they seized 
And bore to prison. And with some few more, 
By whose condemning they may colour hers, 
Sne will be tried to-day — do you hear ? — this day — 
Monday — the last of beautiful May — henceforth 
Accursed in Nature's calendar ! 

29'eed. To-day ! — 

To-day! That's fatal. 

Gabb. You will drive me mad ! 

Think of some remedy. Let her die, then see 
What all your learning's worth. She wrote. The clown 
Shewed me the letter. I spelt it—" Marchmont Needham." 

Need, (starting). Now Heav'n forgive me I a more thoughtless 
fool 
Never wore bells. I but assumed that name 
Worn by a scapegrace cousin. 

c2 

4 



34 THE WITCH-WIFK. 

Gabb. Then you *re more 

Villain than fool Do you indeed wear aught 

So honest as a sword ? 

Nbsd. Tou are mad ! 

Gabb. {passionately). I am. 

I love her, sir — whatever you are — I care not 
Who knows it now. Fd give my life to save her, 
And, with my last gasp, place her — in your arms, 
For that *s the home she looked for. 

NsBD. (pausing). You have learned 

Love*s lesson nobly. [.Offers to take his hand. 

Gabb. (refusing). I believed you wise 

And honourable ; now, sir, 1 would rather 
Cross swords than hands with you. 

Nbeb. No, no, good friend — 

For so you must be — be it mine to dictate 
A nobler contest — for a richer prize. 
Advocate as I am, I cannot use 
My calling now, nor with a bold truth scatter 
This foul charge to the winds. Yet there 's one hope, 
And time wanes fast indeed. We will divide 
The work between us. Hie you to the Dolphin ! 
'T is there the judges. Gay re and Howlett, lay 
Last night. Then summon patience and await 
A mounted runner, bearing a sealed scroll, 
Which, while in London, should have reached my huid, 
But that my haste forbade. Stay for no words ; 
But force your way into the very court, 
And place that scroll beside me. 

Gabb. Is that all ? 

Were but the rest as easy ! 

Nbed. We shall see. 

I dare not promise. At the worst, *t is something 
To know the worst. Heaven prosper all ! Away ! 



SCENE in. 

Room in a Prison. 



Cbc. (alone). Twelve days alone ! No knowledge of what's done, 
Or what's to be. No sign of sister-life 
But the dumb wretch that doles me needful food, 
And spreads the couch that brings not rest, but tears. 
WTiere is my old kind uncle ? Alise ! Mag^e ! 
And — M archmont — what of thee f Hast Uiou recdyed 



THE WITCH-WtFE. 35 

My earnest mission ? Was the bearer true ? 
Then why no answer ? ^^yj So ever ends 
My mournful questioning. The twelfth eve, and lo, 
There passes from the earth the golden smile 
That kept my heart warm. Linger in the skies I 
There*s a sad sweetness in the 8Un*s farewell ; 
'T is a tried friend that leaves us, passing slow, 
And often gazing backward. So — he goes — 
Slowly — how slowly I — scattering crimson light 
On tree, and tower, then hill-top, and then cloud. 
As one, in dying, turns on loftiest things 
His latest aspirations. Ah, farewell I 

{^Enter Alison Devise ; Cecil ^tie# to embrace her. 
Ha ! a dear face I Nurse — ^Alison I Thank Heaven 
That gives this comfort ! 

Axis. Comfort ! — fool I 

Cec. (starting back). Why — nurse ! 

Alis. Would I had nursed a snake, ere cherished thee ! 
I'm an old branch, sapless, and winter- worn. 
Fit for the burning ; but to slaughter these 
Is more than murder. Heaven assoil their souls. 
The young unready things ! 

Cec. (aghast). What mean you ? 

Alis. Qiercely), Mean! 

That you had better died in innocent sleep. 
Than let your baby-fancies loose to ape 
Witch-feasts in Malkin Tower ? 

Cec. Nurse ! Alison . . . 

Why don't they come to take me home ? 

Axis. Thejr'U come 

To psha ! it chokes me. Why, poor, silly lamb. 

You're penned for slaughter, or I'd thank you for 
My death in other guise ! 

Cbc. (shrieking). Death I [Clasping her eyes. 

Axis. 'Twas fine sport 

To fright yon silly gentleman : but stake 
And chain are ugly toys. 

Cbc. (stm clasping her eyes). Death I 

[Severci women and children brought in by gaolers, 
prisoners. 

Gag. Come, no bawling ! 

Get to your cells ; then bellow till the devil, 
Your master, come to your succour. Hang ye all ! 

Axis, (to Cec.) More of your victims, madam ! 

Cec. (wildly). What are these ? 

What brings old age and childish innocence 
To this dark house of grief ? 

Axis. Yourself. 



86 THK WITCH-WIFB. 

Won. (exuMnglv), T is she ! 

Gossips, 1 is she I Her frolics there T the wood 
Brought Hopkins* hell-hounds on us I To her, all ! 
Give ner a parting token. [^They surround Cec. 

Gao. (driving them back). Off, you hags I 

Won. Well, we can curse at distance ! Pretty devil ! 
*T will be like water on the flames, to know 
Your delicate limbs must feel them I 

Cbc. Are ye mad ? 

Or is this all a hateful, hideous dream ? 
K so, here's one bright spot. Why, favourite I 
My Lilian ! little darling ! Sweet, come hither I 

Gao. Come, come I in with ye I 

Won. (fiercely to Cec.) Let my child alone ! 

Spit at her, Lilian I She's a witcn and murderess ! 

[^The child repulses her. Exeunt to inner ceU. 

Cec. Nurse ! nurse ! my heart is broken. 

[^Falls on the ground before Aim. 

Aijs. Psha I Your tears 

Won't melt stone walls. There's your poor uncle, blind 
With weeping for you ; all his learning drowned 
In helpless dotage. Master Hopkins rules. 
Fine sport, child, is 't not ? 

Cbc. Torture me no more ! 

O Alise ! Alise ! this from you ! Can fear 
Turn your old love to gall ; when mine defied 
Malice and vile report, and left me your 
Sole friend ? 

Ams. (moved). Why, mistress Cecil — 

Cbc. Now, be mine. 

This is the earliest home my memory claims. 
There, put my head upon your kind old breast, — 
My night shuts early m. 

Aus. (passionately embracing her). Why, they shall rend me, 
Fibre and vein ! This worn and worthless frame 
Shall yield and crackle in- the rustling flame, 
Ere my vile, graceless tongue, shall breathe again 
One word of anger toward thee ! O my child I 
My darling ! . . . Monsters I Men of bloody minds ! 
If in the den of your steeled bosoms dwells 
No touch of pity, then look up, and fear I 
You dare not cut this blossom from the earth, 
Lest all else wither ! 

[Hopkins enters rudely ; QckOLESifoUows, 

Hop. Turn the old witch in. 

I'll have some chat with the other. 

[^Exit Gaolbb with ArisoN. 
Now then, girl I 



THE WITCH-WIPE. 37 

Time's precious with us both. No whimpering. Come ! 
Is your mind changed towards me ? 

Cbc. Yes, from scorn 

To loathing. Why do you haunt me ? 

Hop. Tis a folly ; 

Yet I would save you from a rougher grasp 
Than that of Matthew Hopkins. Can you .... Come, 
ril not say love — but bear with me ? Who knows 
What may ensue ? That's a fair offer. Come ! — 
A^e brooks no coynesses — those womanish toys. 
The spurs to younger fancy. Kude as I am, 
Pve some good points ; and, at the worst, if Matthew 
Be a grim bridegroom, Death's a grimmer. Psha I 
Marry me, and ha' done with 't. 

Cec. I will first 

Dig with these hands my grave. 

Hop. Unhappy girl ! 

I am thy fate. Trust not my pity. 

Cec. Man, 

I trust my innocence ! 

Hop. What's that ? 

Cec. a child 

Of Heav'n — ^no kin to thee ! 

Hop. Poor witness ! Here, 

You're innocent enough, child — if that's all ! 

Cbc. And therefore you denounced me. Well, you deemed 
A name disgraced— fenced out, like some rude field 
That no man owns — a haunt for thieves and beggars — 
Was fittest for your wear— a truth -turned coward. 
Worth that alone. Report hath painted you 
Daring in purpose — resolute in deed ; 
Yet in the spirit of my soldier -sires. 
Which, I think, prompts me now, girl as I am, 
I give you fair defiance. What do you see 
To gaze at thus ? 

Hop. As fair a fleshly work 

As ever Nature fashioned. Silly one, 
Had'st thou ambition mated with thy courage, 
We two might rule the world ! Wit — courage— beauty ! 
'Faith, here are costly elements to cook 
A bit for the devil's supper ! 

Cbc. Must a child 

Instruct you, that ambition, ill-directed, 
First made, then peopled hell ? 

Hop. Here's change, i' faith ! 

A week ago, you were a simple thing 
Trundling a hoop, or trembling at the frown 
Of that sweet composite of starch and snow, 



38 THB WtTCH*WirB. 

Tour goyernefls, Mother Frill. Of late, I think, 

You have found other teachers. 
Cbc. Oh, I have — 

I have I 
Hop. (Jvriomly), I knew that scholar's frock concealed 

Some crafty purpose. Hang me, but I ever 

Mistrust a man in petticoats ! You love 

This Marchmont ^eedham ? No more trifling — come, 

Confess it, or \^Grasps her arm, 

Cec. How dare you touch me, fellow ? 

Then, for reward of your vile insolence, know 

I love, and am beloved. Ay, more, I have sent 

To warn him of his CeciFs danger here ; 

And he will fly to rescue, or there's little 

Of love or truth i* the world. 
Hop. The devil you have I 

Psha — pedant coxcomb ! 
Gaoler {entering). Here's a stuttering clown. 

Charged with some message for the prisoner. 

Should he have entrance. Master Hopkins ? 
Hop. Hem ! 

Is 't her familiar, think you ? Hath his eye 

An impish cast ? 
Gao. It hath, sir, as it were 

A smack of gooseberry — nothing more. 
Hop. Admit him. \ExU Gaolbb. 

Cec. (aside). And sunshine with him. Marchmont I 

[Re-enter Gaolbb toUh Couktbtman. 

Give't me. Quick I 
CouN. There, take the 'chantment, Fd 'a burned it, only 

I veared 'twould do m' a mischief. Sorrow on me — 

They tell me you're a witch I 
Cec. HyotCre a fiiait, 

You served me, notwithstanding. 
CouN. Yees, I did. 

They zent me to a place where Master Needham, 

Witn other gallants, all in silk and lace, 

Was pla3dng bowls. I poked the scroll in 's face. 

He vrowned, and laughed ; then tossed it to his vriends, 

And bade me zay, for answer, he was then 

Within five points of the game, and twenty crowns 

Depending. So I caught the letter up 

And left. A witch, then, bee'st ? yEyeingher curioutly. 
Hop. Ha — ha I Discreet, 

Courteous, and loving ? Well ? 
Cec. (faintly), I am to be tried 

To-day ? 
Hop. (aside). She's mine ! . • . Within this hour. 



TUB WITCH'WIFB. 39 

Csc. The haste 

Is mercy. Now vou'll leave me ? Though six words 
Prom yon poor clown have, in this heart of mine, 
Stifled a lustrous world, there yet remain 
Some earthly scintillations, which my soul 
Keeds peace to wrestle down. Grant me so much, 
And go. I have chosen. 

Hop. (in a rage), Ohstinate fool — ^thou hast ! 

[^Rushes out. 



ACT V. 

SCENE I. 

21ie Justice' Room^ representing the Trials of the Supposed WitcJies, 

A.D. 1634. 

Before the Judges, Gatbe and Howlett. Hopkins, Stern, Clerks^ 
Officers, Sfc. Amson Devise and others at the bar. TJie 
room lined with spectators of all ranks, among whom Needham 
is seated. 

How. Set them all forward . . . Alison Devise, 
Rachel and Margaret Pinder, Lilian Grey, 
Tried and convict of witchcraft — 

Axis. Tried, my lord ? 

How. Most tenderly ; for 'tis a Christian land, 
And you, inhuman, hellish, murderous — 

Gat. Sentence. 

How. Nay, I must speak ! Oh, ye ungrateful crew. 

Sit here ten hours ! Your fate, ten mortd hours. 
Hang in the balance ; and, after that, not tried ! 
Not tried ! 

Gat. Proceed to sentence. 

How. So I will. 

But such ingratitude ! You, of all persons 
Within this land, have the least cause to murmur. 
Seeing what time and labour have been spent 
In taking of your lives ! Why, look around ye — 
What persons, of your nature and condition. 
Have with so gentle, soft solemnity. 
Been graciously convicted ? . . . No, no, no — 
All ^our lives long, be — 

Gat. Hem I 

How. (quickly). Eh ! — That's to say, 

Till you are hanged to morrow ; for the blood 
Of many victims — 



40 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Gat. Cows and hones — 

How. And 

Other his majesty^s subjects, cries aloud. 

Give Heav*n due thanks — first, that your horrible sins 

Have been so soon cut short. Then, that your end 

Hath not been swift nor sudden, at a blow — 

But with the grave and gradual course of law. 

And, lastly Ttis your sweetest consolation), 

That the full record of your devilish deeds 

Is left behind, as warning. YouUl be hanged 

To-morrow. 

Aijs. And *tis time I Farewell, wise world, 

Where every wrinkle on an old wife's face 
Is brand of felony. Heav'n keep your souls 
From taint of richer blood. My lords — 

Gat. Remove them. 

[^Prisoners withdrawn. 
Set Cecil Howard to the bar. 

Need, (aside). Hold — patience ! — 

Death of my life I *tis she — [Starts tip. 

[Cecil is brought in guarded^ and placed before the bar. 

Off. (to Need., who presses forward). Stand lurther back. 
Cork up vour pity, friend, and hold your tongue — 
This tnars for life or death. 

Need. Good fellow, are all 

This crowd — or I — grown lunatic? 

Off. I thought 

Your look was something wild. Come — sit ye down — 
At least be mad like a gentleman. Hush, hush ! 
Silence, behind there ! Ladies, I can't stop 
Your prating, but by cracking the man's head 
That's nearest to you ! 

Gat. Come — proceed. 

Hop. (coming forward). My Lords — 

Gat. a moment, sir. Why stands she thus alone ? 
Have you no counsel, prisoner ? 

Cec. Three, sir — but 

They're of strange speech, and in this court will scarcely 
Stead me, I fear. 

How. How do you call them ? 

Cec. Truth- 

Reason — and Innocence. 

Gag. Add another — Justice — 

For you shall have it to the full. 

Cec. It seems 

You don't mean to keep Faith, sir — or what doth 

This rufiian here ? [Turning on Hopkins. 

Hop. (oxide to her). That shall you know anon. . . . 



THE WITCH- WIFE. 41 

Tour wisdom, grave and learned Justices, 
Lopping the infected branches, hath left bare 
This trunk and root o* the mischief. Ev*n to a source 
So bright, we track the thick, envenomed flood 
That taints our neighbouring world. I see you gaze. 
As doubting ev*n the devil's power to gain 
Mastery of such fair province, whose good hap 
Angels might sentinel. But I, my lords, 
Alas ! see deeper. All the garden wearing 
The stamp of Satan's hoof — her spirit's soil 
Arid and curst — her holy leaves stript ofl" — 
All glory gone — there stands before you, here, 
A lightning- withered Eden. 

Cec. Turn this way. 

Leave shuffling with your feet — and do your best 
To fix that wandering, guilty gaze on her, 
Of all this court, that knows you. To revenge 
A just repulse — 

Hop. (hurriedly). My lords, she'd speak before 

My charge be made. 

Cec. Lest that, the motive known. 

No man accord an ear to 't. In the dells 
Of Pendell Forest— 

Hop. Listen — only listen I — 

She'll have you think I hid myself in a wood 
To court her — whisper love ! 

Cec. (quickly), No — Heav'n forbid — 

Love's empty name is yet too sacred for 
Such foul association. Look how close 
Sin lies to the door ! I charged him not, yet something. 
Beyond his nature's impulse or control. 
From his own lips forestals me. Yes, my lords. 
In the twilight forest, this grave gentleman 
Came on me unaware. It seems my face 
Had the mishap to please him — for he paused. 
And, as a schoolboy skips aside to pluck 
Some red-lipped daisy, would have gathered me. 
That honour I declined ; and therewithal 
His lover's vows, to more congenial oaths 
Of vengeance changed, find promised action here. 
I pray your pardon — I have done — henceforth, 
Void on my name what poisoned drops they will, 
I have deserved no worse report than one 
Who, in the motley tumult of this world. 
Is jostled by a knave. ISits down. 

Hop. Poor soul ! Poor soul I 

What virulence ! — 'Tis just their way. Dick Stem, 
How strongly she's possessed ? 



42 THE WITCH-WIFE. ^ 

Stb. Ahl , 

Cbc. Greritlemen, 

By what strange license does this grey buffoon, 
This solemn ape, chatter and grin unchecked, 
Before our faces ? Fie! — 
Hop. (furiously), A chit ! A child I 

Not so young, neither, but she might have learned 
The world's ways better. That she eves me thus 
Askance, I can forgive. No culprit thinks 
The hangman an Apollo. . . . What*s the matter? 
Off. (to Gay be). Sir Grerald Mole, sir, claims admission. 
Cec. (starting up). Uncle I 

Then all is well ! 
Hop. (aside). The devil ! I thought I had 
That old bird safe, at least. 

[Enter Sib Gebai^d, supported hy attendants. 
No matter— all 
The wit he owned lies dead in that dull eye. 
He'll do our cause good. Dear Sir Gerald — 
Snt G. (not heeding), Cecil ! 

Where are you, darling ? Why don*t you come home ? 
You are the centre whence my circling life 
Is drawn, and, lost, all's crooked. There's no circle 
Without a centre, love. 
Cbc. Oh, gracious Heaven ! 

SiB G. I'm very old — these three days — and I sit 
Alone, with dry eyes, moping. It is hard 
That old age cannot weep, but must cage up 
Its burning woes within the heart's dry veins. 
Till time quench life and all I 
How. Sir Gerald ! 

SiB G. All's 

So dismal yonder ! Mistress Frill's heart-broken, 
And wears her ruff awry. What's this they tell me 
Of people to be hanged r 
Gat. Well, have you more 

To say. Sir Gerald ? 
Snt G. Oh, sir, this. I've learned 

Mankind as well as Euclid, and I know 
That the worst angle science ever drew. 
Is made by the dangling criminal. 
Hop. Poor soul I 

He wanders. If you listen, sirs, he'll prose 
Till midnight thus. 
Snt G. The fault is mine — 'tis mine. 

I cursed her. When they said she was a witch. 
And swore— I know not what — I — I — Alack I 
Who deals in curses surely doth invade 




THE WITCH-WIFE. 43 

■ The annoury of God. Til make it clear 
With a short — I forget ... A sane man, sirs, 
But with a wit grown wildered, and a heart 
Too heavy for its fleshly home. O, Cecil ! 
My child !— my flower f— fair, gentle, graceful, mild, 
Full of sweet charities ! I should know? I think. 
For she was seldom from me. Mistress Frill I — 
Where's mistress Frill ? (turnings sees Hopkins). 

O treacherous, smiling yillain ! 
Had you no means to work what you call justice, 
But you must use the old man's trusting hand 
To slay his darling ? 

Cec. (eagerly). Uncle ! — dear, kind uncle ! 

Sir. G. XstruggUng), Let me go to her ! Back, I say I What, 
fellow ? 
ril hrain you with my crutch I I'll — Oh, I am weak — 
I want you, Cecil. {Falls hack into the attendant^ arms. 

Hop. (eagerly). Sirs ! — my lords ! (aside) Pale fools. 

They sit aghast ... In the king's name, my lords, — 

NsED. The king's belied I 

Gat. What rascal's that ? Look to't— 

Who spoke ? 

Off. My lords, I did not notice. 

Hop. Sirs, 

Let*s come to business. Yield not your grave ears 
Captive to dotish wailings, nor regard 
This fair illusion. Crush the devil, ev'n in 
His gorgeous palace. Let the golden walls 
Crumble in fires of earth, that the poor soul. 
Once to a holier kingdom consecrate, 
Be purified and saved. Think where 'tis writ, 
** No witch shall live,'* 

How. (nervously). Yes, as you say, let's to't. 

There's no defence — I think. So, Master Hopkins, 
You must recount once more this dismal tale, 
And 'twill suffice. 

Nebd. I cannot hold. . . (Starts up). My lords — 

Cec. (shrieking). Oh, Heaven I 

Hop. (angrily). What nonsense next ? — O, sir — ^'tis you ! 

Here is a second gentleman to be soothed 
Ere the king's work proceed. \_Sits down suJMy, 

Gat. (to Need). Be silent I Usher, 

Look to that person. 

Need. But the prisoner needs 

Counsel, my lords. 

Gat. Have you a right to plead, sir ? 

Need. I cannot claim it. Still — 

Gat. (loudly). Out of the court ! 



44 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Begone, sir — 

\_Noi8e at the dotrr. Gabb enters^ forcing his way 
through all, and places a packet in Needham^s hajtd. 
Need, (aside to him). You have saved her. ... At the least, 

I pray your merciful and learned lordships 

Read my petition. 
Gat. (refecting it). Fellow ! 

Need. Hangman I Down. 

Gat. (starts up in a fury). You insolent clown ! . . . Here, 
marshal! beadles! whip 

This rascal forth I 
Need, (pushing them back). Not yet, sirs. Stand aside. 

ril take that seat a moment. 

[ Walks up to the bench, and places himself in the centre. 

It would seem 

There's room for justice. Sirs, I am Richard Bromley, 

New Lord Chief Justice of the Common Fleas. 

Here's the king's signet — here the warrant from 

His gracious hand, that trembled as it wrote 

With kingly passion, for his subjects slain 

By blind and brutish ignorance, or, what's worse, 

witness suborned. My lords, although my power 

Extends not to unravel this foul web 

Of sophistry and slander, miscalled trial, 

ril cut the sting out. Bring all those condemned 

Back to the court. [^Sits, Alison and prisoners brought in. 

Poor creatures, you are free. 

Pity and gifts for all, and chiefly those 

By your vile means convict. ITo Hopkins. 

Hop. (aside to Stebn). A change of wind — 

That always brings a gale. Just wait the lull — 

I've not done yet with her. 
Need. This court's dissolved. 

Never a^ain to test, on grounds so frail. 

Issues of life and death. Mark, gentlemen. 

Already in these fair and tranquil scenes. 

Where, if at all, mercy and truth should reign. 

There is a more enlightened spirit bom — 

Foster it, and farewell. 

[^All rise. He descends. Enter a Marshal hastily. Alarm. 
Mab. May't please your lordships 

To pause some space, until your javelin guard 

Have well dispersed a somewhat angry crowd, 

Now thronging the court precincts. 
Need. What's their object ? 

Mab. Revenge, my lord, upon the witnesses. 

They say the poor man's blood hath swelled the purse 

Of Hopkins and his band ; — that these are true, 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 45 

And he*s himself the wizard ! 

Need, So doth crime 

Fashion its proper scourge. (^To Hop.) Get you within 
Till night — then rid us of your presence. 

Hop. Fsha ! . . . . 

Open the doors. Come, Richard. 

Stern, (^drawing). Ready ! 

Cbc. (eagerly). Stay! 

Stay, master Hopkins. Let your last act be 
A gloss to its base precedent. Some rude minds 
May yet retain the poison your bold lie 
And my own folly placed there. Take away 
This hideous stigma— and all wrong beside 
ni freely pardon you. 

Hop. (turns at the door). Good. That's my duty. \^Advancing, 
Fm glad you stopped me, madam. I had gone else, 
Leaving the fancies of yon fickle crowd 
To goddess you .... If ever — as is writ 
In terms that none dare question — our fall 'n nature 
Took service with the fiend — behold^ for here 
Stands one, who for three years hath practised charms. 
Philtres, and all the deadly art of hell ! 
Yea — how much longer, she and the devil know best. 
With whom she made her covenant. Record 
This in your souls — and wait Heaven's vengeance . . . Stay I 
Who's for a merry wager ? — Come, I'll bet 
That, ere three months. Sir Richard Bromley, Lord 
Chief Justice, weds a witch ! .... A legion imps 
Dance at the nuptials — and the fiend himself 
Be bridesman. There's my blessing. 

IStriding towards the door. 

Need, (to Constables), Go with him. 

See him beyond their fury. [^Alarm, 

Hop. (furiously). To the devil I— 

Shew me the man dare lay his finger on me I 
Come, Richard I— Back, thou witch! 

\_He rushes out^ Stbrv following. Loud alarm 
as the doors open. 

Need. Let him begone. (To the rest) 

Withdraw a little — but don't quit us. Something 
Whispers a sequel here .... Life of my heart 1 
But for that impulse unmistakeable 
Wherewith thy presence thrills me, this might pass — 
The pageant of a dream. Speak to me, Ceol. 

Cec. You love me still ? 

Need. From the heart's centre to 

The utmost bourn of sense ! 

Cec. (glancing at the spectators). They look on me 
iVith doubt ; — and yet you love ? 



46 THE WITCH-WIFE. 

Nksd. What*8 that to me ? — 

rd clasp this lily hand, were *t stained with gore. 
Slack not the grasp for any frowns of earth ; 
And, if I have no power to clear thy name, 
ril even love thee more I 

Cec. I thank you, Marchmont. 

Now hear my answer. For your sake, this hand 
Shall wear its maiden honours to the grave. 
Knowing no other lord. But 1*11 not link 
With thine, my soul — curse-laden. Little know you 
How deep and clinging are the stains imparted 
Ev*n hy a villain^s hand. 

Need, {eagerly). You will not — 

Cec. (^pointing to Sir G.) Look 

At that old man. He loves me as his heing — 
Yet he*s bewildered with an aching sense 
Of wrong ; and, if there be a leaning, 'tis 
To think me guilty. 

Need. *Tis impossible. 

Be that the test. 

Cec. It shall. (They approach him,) Dear uncle, here*s 

An old friend come to greet us. 

Sir G. (bewilder edly). She of Endor 

Drew spirits earthward, and among them, one 
More than she dreamed of. Who shall trifle with 
The powers of darkness ? Let's to thought and prayer. 
For Master Hopkins is a pious man. 
And he has sworn to't. 

Cec. (calmly). Are you satisfied ? 

Needham, forgive me, for tne thing you loved 

Is no more Cecil. Since we parted, ages 

Have swept above me with their wintry wings. 

And blighted all my youth. The dream has closed 

As such dreams will — in darkness, and 'tis time 

You left me. G^. There lies your world — and here 

My sorrow'' 8 grave. [_Tum8 away. Alarm within. 

Voice (within). Open the doors — Quick I quick ! 

[T%c doors are thrown open^ aii^/ Hopkins, disordered 
and bloody^ is borne in. ManyfoUow, hept bach 
by guards. 

Need. What wretched thing is that ? 

Cec. My witness! 

Hop. (hoarsely). Water I 

0pp. lou've had enough, I think. \_(jrives water. 

My Lords — 

Hop. Stand by. 

Good fellow. Let me tell it. You shall sit 
And drone and mope by many a Christmas fire, 
When my pipe's stoppoL 



THE WITCH-WIFE. 47 

(Raising himself). You told me true, Sir Richard, 
I found the county up — and bellowing 
Death to the witch -informer. What the deuce I 
We could not fight the parish. Awkward clowns — 
They don't know how —to duck — a man — and yet 
The pains — I took — to teach .... I think I broke 
One fellow's head ? 
Orr. You did. 

Hop. I'm sorry now .... 

But never mind him. Now, what's more to the purpose — 
Take all your eyes from me, and nail them there — 
There^ on that peerless piece of maidenhood. 
Praise, pity, love her .... She's no more a witch 
Than Fm an angel ! [She falls in Needham's arms. 

Sib G. Srat demonstrandum — 

In God's good time. 'Tis done. 
Hop. (lifting himself with difficvUy), Don't blind me — Ah I 
'Tis the world that loses lieht. Help me — I reel— 
And stagger through the gloom ; but there's a speck 
Cresting the darkening waves. Young, lovely one. 
Give the old sinner pardon, and dismiss 
His grey hairs peacefully. 
Cbc. (eagerly). Think not on me, 

Nor man's forgiveness — but that's yours — 
(To the attendants) Good friends. 
Look to his hurts, I pray you. The more guilt, 
The longer respite's needed. 
Opf. 'Tis too late — 

He's gone. 
Need. Remove the couch .... One friend, sweet Cecil, 

Awaits your kind remembrance ; and full well 
Indeed he merits it. \_Shemng Gabb. 

Cbc. (giving her hand). Dear master Gabb, 

Take all that's left me to bestow — warm thanks. 
And earnest friendship. 
Gabb. Are you happy ? . . . . Hush ! 

Don't speak. I am answered. All is well. 
Cec. It is. 

And, thanks to Heaven, it shall be. For, as now 
These curtains close upon each varied show 
Of mimic mirth, or anguish, even so 
Hath growing Reason spread her vail between 
Knowledge that t>, and weakness that has been. 
From heart to heart, on wings of mercy, flies 
A free and brother spirit, and supplies 
For sorcery, sense ; malice, the will to please ; 
For philtres, wit ; spells, smiles ; and witches, — these ! 

Curtotn/oUs. 



LONDON: 
Printed by O. Babclat, Castle St. Leicester Sq. 



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